Not a bad article, but the
part about “…engaging in strategies such as silence and stigma management”
sounds like a quote from a skilled academic purveyor of feminist snake oil. - Wes
FULL CONTACT
by Ann Killion
(San
Jose Mercury News, March 28, 1999)
Woman's Rugby Is Giving the
Old Stereotypes of Women's Sports a Good Roughing Up.
She
snatches the fat, oblong ball, bobbles it, dodges sharp elbows and is tackled.
She falls hard to the ground, arms attempting to protect her head and face, a
flurry of cleats stomping close to her ears and cheekbones.
Finally,
the mass moves on. She stands up, unharmed, and sprints downfield to rejoin the
action.
At
one time, that rugby ruck would have made the athletic hierarchy at Stanford
wince. The young woman in the midst of the chaos was once one of the hottest
recruits to the Stanford women's basketball team.
But
now Melody Peterson is on the periphery, playing a club sport on a field
outside Stanford stadium, in front of a few dozen loud and loyal fans. Many in
the stands wear some sort of symbol of rugby's brutality. One woman has her
broken nose covered in tape. Another's ears are taped over for protection.
"Take
her down," a young man shouts from the stands, as though urging 49ers
defensive end Bryant Young to sack Brett Favre.
Peterson,
20, is one of the best athletes on the field this Friday evening, in a match
against Cal. She runs straight ahead, the strength and balance that made her a
prep basketball player of the year helping now to keep the rugby ball in play.
She sets up six Stanford scores and scores one herself in the 50-12 domination.
"I
think that the rugby coaches may want to send Tara VanDerveer a bouquet of
flowers," says referee and longtime rugby advocate Sandy Robertson.
Peterson
clearly relishes the maverick rugby style. She spent two unhappy years in
basketball coach VanDerveer's well-used doghouse, her work ethic and attitude
in question. Finally she was kicked off the team along with another player,
just a few days before school ended last June.
But
Peterson wasn't about to relax. She had spent her youth changing uniforms in
the car on the way from soccer to basketball practice, doing homework en route
to Little League and even Pop Warner. One of the first girls in her Southern
California hometown of Monrovia to play youth football, 9-year-old Peterson
quickly changed attitudes about what girls can and can't do.
"They
wanted to make me a kicker, but then I hit a guy, carried him 75 yards and
dropped him," she says. "By our third practice, I was a starting
linebacker."
So
when a friend invited her to fill her newfound athletic free time with rugby,
Peterson wasn't intimidated.
"I
love contact," she says. "I love this game."
Peterson
has found a home in rugby. And she's not the only one.
Women's
collegiate rugby is one of the fastest growing sports in the nation. It was tagged
the Hot New Sport by Rolling Stone magazine a couple of years ago and
hasn't slowed down since. The number of teams registered with Rugby magazine--a
clearinghouse for all things rugby in the United States--is now at 272, and is
growing by at least 10 percent a year.
"There
were just a handful of teams 10 years ago," says Rugby magazine's
publisher, Ed Hagerty. "They're springing up like mushrooms."
"It
is," says Stanford Coach Franck Boivert, "a tidal wave."
In
Northern California, the growth has been fivefold. Two years ago, there were
just two collegiate rugby teams. Now there are 10, reaching from Cal
State-Monterey Bay and UC-Santa Cruz all the way up to Humboldt State and Chico
State. San Jose State and Santa Clara have teams. At UC-Davis, close to 100
women expressed interest in the team. At Cal, which has recently added a team,
50 women showed up for a practice. High school programs are forming: At
Piedmont High in the East Bay, 89 girls signed up for the first rugby practice.
Why
do women want to play a sport famous for black eyes and broken noses, for an
odd formation called a scrum, for mud, mud, mud--from the nostrils to the sock
lines?
The
answer: Why wouldn't they?
"It
is a collective sport of combat," says Boivert, who also coaches the men's
team at Stanford. "That is something women have never been able to engage
in, in their history. It is extremely liberating, both psychologically and
physically."
Players
echo that sentiment--though perhaps not with quite the Gallic eloquence of
Boivert, who is a native of Perpignan in southern France and played rugby
professionally in France before coming to the United States in the late 1970s.
"As a woman you grow up with a sense of how your body is supposed to be,"
says Lara Strauss, the president of Stanford's rugby team and a flanker on it.
"You see images in magazines. You're supposed to be pretty, dieting all
the time. But by playing rugby, you realize that your body is a strong,
functioning machine. It's not just meant to be pretty."
For
27 years, since the passage of Title IX, girls and women have flocked to
sports. We expect our daughters to play baseball, basketball, soccer. We are
accustomed to seeing women playing hockey, doing martial arts. We're not
surprised by women in the weight room.
But
rugby pushes the envelope a little further. In this era of X-games, rugby is a
sport--not manufactured for television but with a long and healthy
tradition--that pushes women to the extreme, to a place they've never been
before.
Women
have played other sports with limited contact, though there are rules
restricting checking in both women's hockey and lacrosse. But rugby is
full-contact. Same rules for men and women. It's as close to American football
as most women can get.
"It's
not unique to sport, but a progression that seems natural to many women,"
says Elaine Blinder, an associate professor of physical education at Southern
Illinois University who specializes in issues concerning female athletes.
"As women gain a greater sense of their physical capabilities, they are
realizing there are no sound reasons why they can't do physical activities once
deemed unacceptable."
And,
it turns out, some women have been waiting all their lives to tackle another
human being and slam him or her into the ground. "I see a lot of women who
light up and say, 'Wow, this is what I've been waiting for! I want to crash
into someone!'" says Katie Wharton, a fly-half on the Cal women's team.
"I had played soccer and other sports. But rugby was like no other sport I
ever played. It goes beyond the others."
And
some think the growth of women's rugby will benefit the men's game, which has
existed on the fringes of American sports for years. "The women's game just
might lead us to the promised land," says Hagerty.
"WHY
WOULD WOMEN WANT TO PLAY RUGBY?"
Legend
has it that rugby was invented 176 years ago when a boy at Rugby School in
Rugby, England, had the nerve to pick up the soccer ball and run with it. In
1871, the English Rugby Union was formed to standardize the rules.
By
that time, the game had already made its way across the Atlantic and all the
way across the American continent. The Cal rugby team was established in 1872,
and though the game has mostly thrived in New England, Cal continues to be the
most successful collegiate program in the nation, with 15 national
championships to its credit.
Cal's
"football schedule" began with rugby in 1882 and was replaced by
American football--an offshoot of rugby--in 1886. But from 1906 to 1914 both
Cal and Stanford dropped football because of safety concerns. Rugby, considered
by the college presidents to be better suited to the needs of what they deemed
was "a moral, gentlemanly college atmosphere," replaced it. And Cal's
and Stanford's records during that period, including Big Games, are based on
their rugby team's performances.
But
women didn't start playing the game until the mid-to-late 1970s, when they were
beginning to test themselves in many athletic endeavors. Those early teams were
really clubs, with loose affiliations with a college. Cal and Stanford both had
teams, though several members weren't students but women from the community.
Cal's team evolved into the All Blues, a club independent of the university.
"It
wasn't easy to recruit for," says Palo Alto resident Becky Richter, who
played for Cal in the early days and who is now acting as commissioner for the
Northern California collegiate league. "I would stop women on the street
when they were out jogging and ask them to come to practice. There was never
mild interest. Either you fell in love with it or left it."
The
growth centered on Ivy League schools, small private colleges and academic
institutions such as Cal and Stanford. Despite its brutish reputation, rugby
has always attracted a somewhat intellectual crowd.
"It's
not a game of just brute force," says Lisa Gartner, the coach of
Radcliffe's team, which won the national championship last year. "It's
very creative and full of strategy."
The
male players didn't exactly embrace their female counterparts. Rugby is the
ultimate fraternity, full of dirty songs and wild parties. At one international
game in Canada, the men and women were hosting a banquet together, and the
American captain accused women of "bastardizing the sport" and
intruding into sacred ground where even his "wife couldn't be." The
women walked out in protest.
Jerry
Figone, now an assistant under Jack Clark on the men's team, coached the Cal
women's team in the early 1980s. He remembers standing next to a male rugby
player during a woman's match.
"Why
would women want to play rugby?" the man said.
Figone
looked at him incredulously.
"For
the same reason we all do," he said in a voice loud enough to embarrass
the man.
Despite
the numbers of doctors and lawyers in their ranks, rugby men are often
stereotyped as brain-dead party animals. Women had their own tired stereotype
to deal with.
"Truthfully,
women get tainted with the lesbian stereotype," says Kathy Flores, who
coaches Cal's team and played on the national team for several years.
"It's, 'If you play, you must be a lesbian.' I am so sick of it."
It's
the same predictable label female athletes have heard for years. "Certain
sports are more prone to the lesbian label," says Blinder.
"Typically, the sports that are physical in nature as well as sports
traditionally played by men are more susceptible. These labels are still very
powerful and detract from the quality of the sport experience for women. It
forces many women, regardless of their sexuality, to engage in strategies such
as silence and stigma management."
The
"butch" stereotype has stuck with rugby for years and has probably
hurt the growth of the sport, allowing the rugby community to marginalize the
women's game and deterring widespread interest.
"It's
a stereotype--one that's not entirely false," says Strauss. "But it
takes some effort on women's part to break that stereotype. And it's probably
hurt some of our support with men's teams."
Back
in the early 1980s, the Cal women's team played against the stereotype by
producing a poster of four glamorous players with the caption, "It takes
some-body to play rugby." As a fundraising activity, the team took the
poster to a tournament in Santa Barbara, where it sold like crazy.
"Men
loved that poster," Figone says. "It cured a lot of things."
SOLIDARITY
It
didn't cure everything. Women's rugby suffered from lack of support and waned
over the years. But now it has come back stronger and more organized. Finally,
many hackneyed attitudes are beginning to give way, or women are caring less
about stereotypes.
"Women's
sports are a lot more accepted now," says Flores. "Before we would
try to fit women into certain roles like gymnastics and swimming." As
women's athletic roles expand, rugby is a natural outgrowth.
"There's
a pollen in the air now," says San Jose State women's Coach Karl Laucher,
a tireless supporter of the game who was dubbed "the Scrumlord" by
the Spartan Daily newspaper when he launched the SJS team.
One
attraction of rugby is that there is a place for everyone, no matter what one's
body type or skill level is. There are 15 positions on a rugby side, ranging
from large forwards to small, quick backs.
"If
women are heavier or quieter, there's a place for them," Flores says.
"There's a place for everybody." On Flores' team are a cheerleader,
several sorority members, former high school athletes, women who never played a
sport before finding rugby. But they all emerge from the experience with a new
swagger in their step.
"This
is a sport that builds self-esteem," Flores says.
Rugby
also builds camaraderie.
"In
our collective subconscious, we find a desire to belong to a tribe and to fight
for it, as we have for centuries," Boivert says. "Rugby is a
rediscovery of that part of human nature. To be part of a collective battle, in
which to survive you must have the trust of your teammates."
No
other sport is as social as rugby. While the downside to that--drunkenness and
reckless behavior--is what many Americans think of first when they think of
rugby, the positives are often overlooked. In England, rugby clubs have their
own clubhouses on the rugby pitches (fields), and the long tradition of hosting
a post-match party for the other team has stayed with the game even in the
United States.
"Once
you get into the social aspect of it, it's hard to get out," says San Jose
State player Lindsay Robideaux, who went out for rugby when she transferred
from the University of San Francisco and was looking for a way to get involved
on campus. "It's a scary sport. You hit and you get hurt. You have to have
a reason to stay. And in other sports you don't play your archrival, try to
kill them, and then throw a party for them."
Though
colleges have cracked down on the post-game activities--the Harvard men's team
was recently suspended for alcohol-related incidents--most coaches still
encourage a soberly social side of the game.
"There
is so much academic pressure that the social side is not as strong as it used
to be," says Boivert. "But I encourage it. It is the key to
solidarity. In American society, that is an empty word. But when it comes to
rugby, there truly is solidarity."
Peterson,
who remains close to many of her former Stanford basketball teammates, has
embraced the game's solidarity.
"I
really enjoy hanging out with the team," she says. "It makes it so
comfortable."
Peterson
denies that she had a poor work ethic or attitude on the university's
basketball team.
"Not
everyone is a Stanford player," says Peterson. "Some fit and some
don't. My style didn't fit Tara's style. We had communication problems."
Stanford
allowed Peterson, a junior, to keep her scholarship for one more year, so now
she is finishing both her political science and African-American studies course
work to assure herself of a Stanford degree. Then she plans to transfer to
Nebraska to finish her basketball eligibility. She hopes to play professional
basketball.
For
his part, Boivert has no problems with Peterson.
"She
is quite outstanding," he says.
Indeed,
Peterson became an instant star, scoring six "What do you call
thems?" (tries, which are rugby's equivalent to football touchdowns) in
one of her first games. Playing on the wing, her goal is to break into the
clear and go. Peterson has the speed to do it.
"I'm
like Forrest [Gump]," she says. "I just run."
And
action is the main appeal of rugby. The game is fast-moving--in rugby the
referee allows teams to "play the advantage" rather than stop play to
assess a foul. It is exciting because it is human on human, without pads or
equipment interfering. Despite the violence, rugby purists insist that they get
less serious injuries than players in equipment-intensive sports such as
football and hockey.
While
some women enjoy it because it's close to football, others enjoy it for the
ways it's not like football.
"I
have even less patience for watching football now," says Stanford's
Strauss. "All that stopping, the pads and equipment, the
substitutions."
Some
observers think American women play a purer form of rugby than men, because
they don't have a lot of football to unlearn.
The
U.S. women are having greater success at the international level than the men.
Led by such players as Jen Crawford--a former Stanford player and considered by
some to be the best international rugby player the United States has ever
produced--the women's national team has made it to the finals of all three
women's World Cups. The U.S. women won the first World Cup in 1991, and lost in
1994 to England and last year to New Zealand--countries that are traditional
men's powers.
Though
New Zealand and other powers are beginning to take the women's game seriously,
throwing resources behind it, the American women, on a shoestring budget, have
been holding their own. Many credit Boivert, who in another of his many rugby
roles, is the national women's team coach.
"He
is a great coach," says Crawford, a business development manager at
Informix Software Inc. in Menlo Park, who recently retired from national play
and is now coaching at Piedmont High in the East Bay. "And at Stanford, he
took the program and really made it into something."
The
men's rugby program at Stanford, like the Cal rugby program, benefits from the
support of wealthy alumni. The Stanford Rugby Foundation, which has been
raising money since 1987, has a $1.3 million endowment. The income pays
Boivert's salary and funds a trainer, travel and other expenses. The foundation
also subsidizes the women's program, endorsing Boivert's involvement with the
women's team.
"We're
happy to do that," says Tom Klein, the president of the foundation and a
former player for Stanford and the men's national team. "Franck is an
excellent rugby coach, for both men and women. To my knowledge zero animosity
exists between men and women's rugby."
Thanks
to such support and organization, the Stanford program--which will host the
Pacific Coast Territorial Championship playoffs April 3 and 4--is on a
different level than the rest of the Northern California teams. The women have
gone on tour to places like New Zealand, Fiji--Boivert spends his off season
running the rugby program at the University of the South Pacific in Fiji--and
Andorra, in the Pyrenees. Their organization is obvious on the field.
"They're
a thing of beauty," says Laucher with admiration. "They're head and
shoulders above everyone else."
That
kind of organization is what the sport may need to be taken seriously.
NUMBERS
GAME
Last
fall, the women's rugby program at Eastern Illinois University became the first
in the country to gain varsity status. The move was made to help the school
achieve gender equity in athletics, as required under Title IX.
That
development got some folks thinking that the women's game could be rugby's path
to legitimacy.
"Colleges
might start putting an arm around the women's game and befriending it,"
says Hagerty.
That
could lead to "the promised land" Hagerty dreams of, a time and place
when rugby is viewed as a serious rather than a fringe sport.
Most
college rugby teams operate at the club level, which means they are student-run
and student-supported. But an increase in varsity status for women--being taken
under the wing of athletic departments--could also lead to varsity status for
men. And that could lead to NCAA-sanctioning, a re-entry into the Olympics
(U.S. won gold medals at the Olympics in 1920 and 1924 before the sport was
dropped), a more organized professional league, more dollars and more exposure.
Schools
that try to come into compliance under Title IX must add women's sports until
the level of women's funding is equal to men's. Because football skews the
budget and the athletic population, administrators seek women's sports that
generate high participation numbers yet don't cost a lot to run.
Rugby
fills both needs. It usually fields two sides of 15 each. And it requires
nothing more than a field to play on and a pair of rugby boots for each player.
San
Jose State, which just completed its five-year plan for gender equity and now
says it is in compliance with Title IX, will continue to review its balance of
sports and may change its present slate of teams.
"Rugby
is one of many sports we are evaluating," says Associate Athletic Director
Carolyn Lewis. "But rugby is at a disadvantage because it is not an NCAA
sport." Schools that add NCAA-sanctioned sports participate in revenue
sharing for that sport.
At
Stanford, thanks to the Stanford Rugby Foundation, the program costs the
university virtually nothing to run. If the sport became university-sanctioned,
it would be funded by athletic department dollars. Many feel it would be unfair
to give the women's team varsity status and not the men's; it would also
prevent any gain in gender equity parity.
"Women's
rugby wouldn't help us with the [gender equity] numbers game," says
Athletic Director Ted Leland. "Because if it went varsity, I imagine it
would end up taking the men's team. Otherwise I would have a problem with a
localized inequality in the opposite direction."
At
Cal, where men's rugby is a varsity sport and also supported by its own rich
foundation, Flores has been encouraged to pursue varsity status. But that's a
goal that seems far off in the future to her. Right now, her team ranks at the
bottom of the club hierarchy, because of its relative infancy. She's struggling
simply to find fields to play on.
Not
everyone thinks varsity status is a great idea, and not just because beer is
banned at university-sanctioned events. Rugby is a grass-roots organization, an
athletic cult that swims upstream.
"I
was asked to write a letter expressing our interest in varsity status and I was
somewhat hesitant," says Strauss, Stanford team president. "I think
it's important that the men's and women's team stay connected. We share the
same coach and the same culture."
The
rugby culture has always been renegade. Some think the advent of the
Superleague in men's club rugby--a move to concentrate the best players onto a
few elite teams--has squelched what was a thriving Bay Area club culture a
decade ago.
And
in the women's game, supporters aren't sure they want to be a member of any
organization--even their own university--that would officially invite them to
join.
"People
attracted to rugby are creative and rebellious and diverse," says Gartner,
the women's coach at Radcliffe. The team retains its Radcliffe distinction,
eschewing the Harvard designation most other women's sports at the university
now have. "Rugby occupies its own niche. We have control of the sport now.
We don't have to follow the university restrictions. It's sort of pure and what
sports should be."
And
that appeals to the intellectual side of college rugby players. Many are
looking for a sport that offers release from classroom pressures. With varsity
status and scholarships and university involvement, a sport can become its own
form of tension.
Just
ask Peterson.
"It's
the first time in three years that I've played a sport and not had a mountain
on my shoulders," she says with a grin. "I'm having so much
fun."
Rugby
may continue to be an outsiders' game. But now women are on the outside, too.
This time, by choice.
*
* *
WHAT
IS RUGBY?
Rugby,
a sport played in more than 100 countries, is an offshoot of soccer and a
predecessor of American football.
It
is played with an oval ball, blunter than an American football. A team consists
of 15 players, divided into eight forwards and seven backs. No substitutions
are allowed except for injuries. Each game is divided into two 40 minute
halves, with no time-outs, except for injury.
A
rugby field is 100 meters in length and 69 meters in width. A goal line lies at
each end of the field and the object of the game is to carry the ball over the
line, much like scoring a football touchdown. Such a score is called a try, and
is worth five points. After scoring a "try," a team can attempt a
conversion (like football's point-after) by kicking the ball through the uprights.
Such a conversion is worth two points.
Points
can also be scored by a dropkick, when a player kicks the ball through the
uprights during the action, or by a free kick, awarded after a foul. Both types
of kicks are worth three points.
In
a rugby "scrum," the forwards of both teams pack together with their
arms across one another's shoulders. Picture offensive linemen hugging each
other while pushing forward. Each team tries to "hook" the ball out
to its scrum-half--rugby's equivalent of a quarterback, or point guard. Once
the ball is out, it is passed by the backs while running downfield.
When
the ball carrier is tackled to the ground, he or she must release the ball
immediately. Both teams try to gain possession in a "ruck." If the
ball carrier stays standing, the fight for possession is called a
"maul."
Players
may not pass the ball forward--all passes must be made lateral or backward.
They can, however, kick the ball forward at any time. Players cannot be
offside, or downfield ahead of the ball. Therefore there is no blocking, as in
American football.